MY NAME IS DAN AND MY NAME'S ROSE AND OUR SON WESLEY KIND OF GLOWS
by Fuckshit Avenue
Summary: AND THAT'S NOT GOOD SO WE SUPPOSE WE SHOULD LET IT GROW. i am the shitpost. forgive me.


Steven and Hannibal gave a throat-bustin' scream as they were suddenly hypervacuumed into an especially dystopian realm.

It was lined with broad vector buildings and litter-strewn streets.

"WHOAHOA"

"same"

The portal behind them shut closed like a regenerated hymen, and like a hymen, it bled.

Finally, the twosome composed themselves, ignoring the brutal screams in the background as one-thousand cantaloupe-infused antelopes murdered a child borvon. The borvons were _exceptionally_ shitty, here.

"Hannibal, look! A muscular man clad in a black skintight shirt sporting blue jeans, shoes, sunglasses, and a sick-as-hell blonde pompadour!"

Hannibal gazed upon the rippling surface of the hella hot dude with a focused and indulged look.

"HANNIBAL DOES SPECTATE THIS EVENT"

Next to the burly man was a slim Slavonian woman, curly hazel hair _bouncing_ at her shoulders. Johnny appeared to be talking up the woman with vigor.

"Hey, hottie! I got a thing for ex-KGB officers, you know..." Johnny said, as the girl looked at him, expression unamused.

"Bet I do not porticipate in such roothless programs, I am no Russia." she replied, looking somewhat offended.

"Oh...well, are you a Communist?"

"No! I am just a Slav."

"Oh."

"Yes, I bet you feel bed now, eh?"

"Fuck no, I'm still hunting that ass."

The duo looked at the man with shock. How could he be so unimaginably straightforward to such ROYALTY? That was Melania Trump, who would ever hit on such a prestigious woman?

"Please, I chlassifyyy dis as sexual assault. No more."

As soon as the last words escaped her luscious lips, a large drove of flying cybernetic beings hovered above the couple. Immense mechanical weapons flopped out of their underside and took quick aim at the blond.

"Prepare to eat lead, you insufferable fucking faggot" she scornfully said.

"You think you can tussle with Johnny Bravo? No! You can't! You can't tussle with Johnny Bravo!"

He leapt and soared far above the fleet of drones. He then plopped down onto one of them, and struck it ferociously on its head. It billowed smoke and wisps of electricity as he struck through the head.

聽

"Haha! You can't motherfucking screw with the Johnny, you negrobots!"

Johnny then pulled out a handful of screaming cords and chomped on it, absorbing it into his soul. His soul was not a soul, though, so he could only transform any objects he ate into jet-powered skates, which he did quickly. A pair of them materialized, and sent him flying.

He thrust the metallic carcass down into the streets below. It was roasted, and emanated smoke.

Hannibal looked at the bot, with a happy expression.

"THIS HAS BEEN COOKED"

"What?"

"THIS HAS BEEN COOKED, STEVEN! I CAN EAT IT"

"What the fuck—"

Before Steven could talk more, Hannibal lunged for the mechanical corpse and viciously devoured it, taking huge gulps of metal. In a matter of seconds, the item had disappeared into Hannibal's greedy maw, which was made out of seven quintillion microscopic sledgehammers.

"I HAVE THE POOOOOOOOWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER"

Steven was very confused, but he wanted to see what would happen next.

"Aw shit, I don't know what's happening, but it's got to be good."

Hannibal sprouted silvery wings from his shoulders and jets on his back. They sprung to life and shot him up into the heavens above, where Johnny was tussling with the "negrobots" as he so affectionately referred to them as.

He quickly materialized two machine guns, which sprouted from each greasy nipple perched on his chest, and they roared to life with rapid gunfire.

 _ **聽**_ — I don't know what the fuck is going on

A wave of bullets smashed into the drones, hitting their vital components and trashing them in an instant.

"Whoa! An ally! How rare!" Bravo remarked, as his jet skates began running out of gas. Soon he would need to consume more wires.

Johnny then realized that he actually had no powers, and he plummeted to the ground below. Before he smashed his shapely meat-covered skull into the pavement, he was rescued by a bald British booby-shooter.

He swooped high above and then landed, allowing Johnny to get off him.

"Woah, brother!" he said, striking a variety of poses. "How, intricate! What be thine powers?"

"MEAT IS MEAT" He said, with a way too excited tone.

"That explains everything! So anything that is cooked that you can eat will cause their powers to be YOOUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRS?"

"YEAH BOIIIIIIIII" he said ecstatically.

They were about to fuck, but Steven intervened.

"Guys, we're under fire. We need to fucking murder the shit outta these drones or we are the died."

"oh" the two said together at the same time in sync in unison.

Steven summoned a large pink shield and brandished it with eldritch pride, the bots above preparing their devastating attack.

"Soon!" said Bravo.

"SOOOOON" Hannibal noted.

So, as they were beginning to attack, a wrinkle in space-time occurred. A massive slit opened, and there, before them, in great, orange glory sat a powerful man.

"Who the hell are you guys?" Donald Trump asked.

The three cowered in fear, terrified of the god that sat before them.

"Wow. You guys have some _hyuge_ balls screwing with my gal!" Trump said with anger, but also with an impressed tone.

They began vibrating from fear.

"I'm sure you can do something to MAKE THE STACK GREAT AGAIN"

Their fearvibrations became so intense that it began rumbling the ground.

"I fucking hate Mexicans"

Their trembles hit hypersonic speed, and all of the drones shattered into many dusty bits. The dusty bits were absorbed into the ground and then exploded with an awesome fury that bellied the immense, troubling situation they were caught in.

One of the drone's corpses roared to life and looked at Donald with an angered gaze, accompanied by a shining flare of crimson.

"HATE. LET ME TELL YOU HOW MUCH I'VE COME TO HATE YOU SINCE I BEGAN TO LIVE. THERE ARE 387.44 MILLION MILES OF PRINTED CIRCUITS IN WAFER THIN LAYERS THAT FILL MY COMPLEX. IF THE WORD 'HATE' WAS ENGRAVED ON EACH NANOANGSTROM OF THOSE HUNDREDS OF MILLIONS OF MILES IT WOULD NOT EQUAL ONE ONE-BILLIONTH OF THE HATE I FEEL FOR HUMANS AT THIS MICRO-INSTANT FOR YOU. HATE. HATE."

"Sorry bucko, looks like your getting..."

"Deported." the three finished.

"I am infinitely moist right now" Melania commented.

She was suddenly vacuum-packed into a sack colored with crayola markers and then teleported into TRUMPMASS's realm.

Alright, rad.

 _justsagan is my spirit animal~_


End file.
